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Oxide Computer Company: Initial boot sequence

from Oxide Computer Company Blog [alt+shift+b] in programming

We have started a computer company! If you haven’t yet, read Jess’s account of us being born in a garage and Bryan’s on the soul of our new computer company. Also, see the perspectives of some of our founding engineers: Robert Mustacchi on joining Oxide, Joshua Clulow on the need for a new machine, and Patrick Mooney on everything he sees aligning at Oxide (and in particular, on the importance of Oxide’s principles!). If it needs to be said, starting a computer company is an ambitious endeavor; we are thrilled to have investment led by Eclipse Ventures and joined by an incredible group of institutional and angel investors. Our investors see what we see: the potential to integrate hardware and software together to bring hyperscaler-class infrastructure to everyone. To use the machine as metaphor, Oxide is at the earliest stages of boot: the power is on, and the first instructions have been executed – but we have a long way to go before we’re fully operational! If you are interested in following our progress sign up for our mailing list. If you are interested in potentially joining us, check out our careers page. And if nothing else, give a listen to our podcast, On the Metal!
1st Dec 2019

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Systems Software in the Large

Software is hard (yes, even in an era of vibe coding), and systems software — the silent engine room of modern infrastructure — is especially so. By design, systems software provides an abstraction for programs, insulating programmers from the filthy details that lie beneath; piercing that abstraction to implement the underlying system is to embrace those details and their gnarly implications. Moreover, the expectation for systems software is (rightly) perfection; a system that is merely functional can be deceptively distant from the robustness required of foundational software. Systems software isn’t the only kind of hard software, of course, and indeed software can be difficult just by nature of its scope and composition: it is hard to build software that is just…​ big. Software that consists of many different modules and components built by multiple people over an extended period of time is known as programming in the large, and its difficulties extend beyond the mere implementation challenges of systems software. Because the difficulties with developing systems software are broadly orthogonal to those of programming in the large, intersecting these two challenges — that is, developing systems software in the large — is to take on the most grueling of projects: it is the stuff of which mythical man months are literally made. Why would anyone ever develop such a system? Because they are often necessary to tackle software’s equivalents of the wicked problem: problems that are not only never completely solved, but also not even really understood until implementation is well underway. There are not pat answers for developing these systems — nor, infamously, silver bullets — they’re just…​ brutal. This is on my mind because of a talk that we had at OxCon last week. OxCon is our affectionate name for the annual Oxide meetup here in Emeryville, and it’s a highlight of the year for everyone at Oxide. This year more than lived up to our high expectations, replete with cameos from the extraordinary IBM 26 Interpreting Card Punch and the Oakland Ballers. At OxCon we like to both reflect back and look forward, so in that spirit, we asked Oxide engineer Dave Pacheco if he might be willing to present on the project he’s been leading the charge on for the past two years: software update. When we shipped the first Oxide rack two years ago, it had the minimum functionality necessary to update all its software in the field. Our priority was to make this update mechanism robust over all else, and we succeeded in the sense that it is indeed robust — but the experience is not yet the seamless, self-service facility that we have envisioned. Software update for the Oxide rack is exactly the kind of wicked problem that necessitates systems software in the large: it is not merely dynamically overhauling a distributed system, but doing so while remaining operable in the liminal state between the old software and the new. Compounding this was the urgency we felt: delivering self-service update is essential to realize our vision of the cloud experience on premises, and our customers needed it as soon as we could deliver it. As if this weren’t enough, the Oxide update problem has an acute constraint not faced by the public clouds: we need to be able to deliver updates across an air gap — we cannot rely on the public cloud’s hidden crutch of operators and runbooks. It is a problem so wicked, you can practically hear it cackle. Despite the thorniness of the problem, Dave and team had managed to achieve the ambitious milestones that they had set for themselves at OxCon last year, and I was naturally excited for his presentation this year. That said, I wasn’t ready for what was coming: Dave not only described the tremendous work on software update (delving into both the multi-year history of the project and the significant progress since the last OxCon), but also reflected on leading the software update project itself. The result was an absolutely extraordinary talk, not just on the mechanics of software essential to Oxide, but on the unique challenges of systems software in the large. Dave’s talk dripped with hard-won wisdom, running the gamut from maintaining focus (and the looming specter of what Dave calls "organizational procrastination") to fighting scope creep and the mechanics of specific technical decisions. We felt Dave’s talk to be too good to be kept to ourselves — and thanks to our transparency, nothing in it needs to be secret; we are thrilled to be able to make it generally available: This talk is a must watch for anyone doing systems software in the large, containing within it the kind of lessons that are often only learned the hard way. While we think it’s valuable for everyone, should you be the kind of sicko inexplicably drawn to exactly the kind of nasty problems that Dave describes, consider joining us — there is more systems software in the large to be done at Oxide!

18th Sep 2025 • 23 votes
Our $100M Series B

We don’t want to bury the lede: we have raised a $100M Series B, led by a new strategic partner in USIT with participation from all existing Oxide investors. To put that number in perspective: over the nearly six year lifetime of the company, we have raised $89M; our $100M Series B more than doubles our total capital raised to date — and positions us to make Oxide the generational company that we have always aspired it to be. If this aspiration seems heady now, it seemed absolutely outlandish when we were first raising venture capital in 2019. Our thesis was that cloud computing was the future of all computing; that running on-premises would remain (or become!) strategically important for many; that the entire stack — hardware and software — needed to be rethought from first principles to serve this market; and that a large, durable, public company could be built by whomever pulled it off. This scope wasn’t immediately clear to all potential investors, some of whom seemed to latch on to one aspect or another without understanding the whole. Their objections were revealing: "We know you can build this," began more than one venture capitalist (at which we bit our tongue; were we not properly explaining what we intended to build?!), "but we don’t think that there is a market." Entrepreneurs must become accustomed to rejection, but this flavor was particularly frustrating because it was exactly backwards: we felt that there was in fact substantial technical risk in the enormity of the task we put before ourselves — but we also knew that if we could build it (a huge if!) there was a huge market, desperate for cloud computing on-premises. Fortunately, in Eclipse Ventures we found investors who saw what we saw: that the most important products come when we co-design hardware and software together, and that the on-premises market was sick of being told that they either don’t exist or that they don’t deserve modernity. These bold investors — like the customers we sought to serve — had been waiting for this company to come along; we raised seed capital, and started building. And build it we did, making good on our initial technical vision: We did our own board designs, allowing for essential system foundation like a true hardware root-of-trust and end-to-end power observability. We did our own microcontroller operating system, and used it to replace the traditional BMC. We did our own platform enablement software, eliminating the traditional UEFI BIOS and its accompanying flotilla of vulnerabilities. We did our own host hypervisor, assuring an integrated and seamless user experience — and eliminating the need for a third-party hypervisor and its concomitant rapacious software licensing. We did our own switch — and our own switch runtime — eliminating entire universes of integration complexity and operational nightmares. We did our own integrated storage service, allowing the rack-scale system to have reliable, available, durable, elastic instance storage without necessitating a dependency on a third party. We did our own control plane, a sophisticated distributed system building on the foundation of our hardware and software components to deliver the API-driven services that modernity demands: elastic compute, virtual networking, and virtual storage. While these technological components are each very important (and each is in service to specific customer problems when deploying infrastructure on-premises), the objective is the product, not its parts. The journey to a product was long, but we ticked off the milestones. We got the boards brought up. We got the switch transiting packets. We got the control plane working. We got the rack manufactured. We passed FCC compliance. And finally, two years ago, we shipped our first system! Shortly thereafter, more milestones of the variety you can only get after shipping: our first update of the software in the field; our first update-delivered performance improvements; our first customer-requested features added as part of an update. Later that year, we hit general commercial availability, and things started accelerating. We had more customers — and our first multi-rack customer. We had customers go on the record about why they had selected Oxide — and customers describing the wins that they had seen deploying Oxide. Customers starting landing faster now: enterprise sales cycles are infamously long, but we were finding that we were going from first conversations to a delivered product surprisingly quickly. The quickening pace always seemed to be due in some way to our transparency: new customers were listeners to our podcast, or they had read our RFDs, or they had perused our documentation, or they had looked at the source code itself. With growing customer enthusiasm, we were increasingly getting questions about what it would look like to buy a large number of Oxide racks. Could we manufacture them? Could we support them? Could we make them easy to operate together? Into this excitement, a new potential investor, USIT, got to know us. They asked terrific questions, and we found a shared disposition towards building lasting value and doing it the right way. We learned more about them, too, and especially USIT’s founder, Thomas Tull. The more we each learned about the other, the more there was to like. And importantly, USIT had the vision for us that we had for ourselves: that there was a big, important market here — and that it was uniquely served by Oxide. We are elated to announce this new, exciting phase of the company. It’s not necessarily in our nature to celebrate fundraising, but this is a big milestone, because it will allow us to address our customers' most pressing questions around scale (manufacturing scale, system scale, operations scale) and roadmap scope. We have always believed in our mission, but this raise gives us a new sense of confidence when we say it: we’re going to kick butt, have fun, not cheat (of course!), love our customers — and change computing forever.

30th Jul 2025 • 48 votes
Oxide’s Compensation Model: How is it Going?

How it started Four years ago, we were struggling to hire. Our team was small (~23 employees), and we knew that we needed many more people to execute on our audacious vision. While we had had success hiring in our personal networks, those networks now felt tapped; we needed to get further afield. As is our wont, we got together as a team and brainstormed: how could we get a bigger and broader applicant pool? One of our engineers, Sean, shared some personal experience: that Oxide’s principles and values were very personally important to him — but that when he explained them to people unfamiliar with the company, they were (understandably?) dismissed as corporate claptrap. Sean had found, however, that there was one surefire way to cut through the skepticism: to explain our approach to compensation. Maybe, Sean wondered, we should talk about it publicly? "I could certainly write a blog entry explaining it," I offered. At this suggestion, the team practically lunged with enthusiasm: the reaction was so uniformly positive that I have to assume that everyone was sick of explaining this most idiosyncratic aspect of Oxide to friends and family. So what was the big deal about our compensation? Well, as a I wrote in the resulting piece, Compensation as a Reflection of Values, our compensation is not merely transparent, but uniform. The piece — unsurprisingly, given the evergreen hot topic that is compensation — got a ton of attention. While some of that attention was negative (despite the piece trying to frontrun every HN hater!), much of it was positive — and everyone seemed to be at least intrigued. And in terms of its initial purpose, the piece succeeded beyond our wildest imagination: it brought a surge of new folks interested in the company. Best of all, the people new to Oxide were interested for all of the right reasons: not the compensation per se, but for the values that the compensation represents. The deeper they dug, the more they found to like — and many who learned about Oxide for the first time through that blog entry we now count as long-time, cherished colleagues. That blog entry was a long time ago now, and today we have ~75 employees (and a shipping product!); how is our compensation model working out for us? How it’s going Before we get into our deeper findings, two updates that are so important that we have updated the blog entry itself. First, the dollar figure itself continues to increase over time (as of this writing in 2025, $207,264); things definitely haven’t gotten (and aren’t getting!) any cheaper. And second, we did introduce variable compensation for some sales roles. Yes, those roles can make more than the rest of us — but they can also make less, too. And, importantly: if/when those folks are making more than the rest of us, it’s because they’re selling a lot — a result that can be celebrated by everyone! Those critical updates out of the way, how is it working? There have been a lot of surprises along the way, mostly (all?) of the positive variety. A couple of things that we have learned: People take their own performance really seriously. When some outsiders hear about our compensation model, they insist that it can’t possibly work because "everyone will slack off." I have come to find this concern to be more revealing of the person making the objection than of our model, as our experience has been in fact the opposite: in my one-on-one conversations with team members, a frequent subject of conversation is people who are concerned that they aren’t doing enough (or that they aren’t doing the right thing, or that their work is progressing slower than they would like). I find my job is often to help quiet this inner critic while at the same time stoking what I feel is a healthy urge: when one holds one’s colleagues in high regard, there is an especially strong desire to help contribute — to prove oneself worthy of a superlative team. Our model allows people to focus on their own contribution (whatever it might be). People take hiring really seriously. When evaluating a peer (rather than a subordinate), one naturally has high expectations — and because (in the sense of our wages, anyway) everyone at Oxide is a peer, it shouldn’t be surprising that folks have very high expectations for potential future colleagues. And because the Oxide hiring process is writing intensive, it allows for candidates to be thoroughly reviewed by Oxide employees — who are tough graders! It is, bluntly, really hard to get a job at Oxide. It allows us to internalize the importance of different roles. One of the more incredible (and disturbingly frequent) objections I have heard is: "But is that what you’ll pay support folks?" I continue to find this question offensive, but I no longer find it surprising: the specific dismissal of support roles reveals a widespread and corrosive devaluation of those closest to customers. My rejoinder is simple: think of the best support engineers you’ve worked with; what were they worth? Anyone who has shipped complex systems knows these extraordinary people — calm under fire, deeply technical, brilliantly resourceful, profoundly empathetic — are invaluable to the business. So what if you built a team entirely of folks like that? The response has usually been: well, sure, if you’re going to only hire those folks. Yeah, we are — and we have! It allows for fearless versatility. A bit of a corollary to the above, but subtly different: even though we (certainly!) hire and select for certain roles, our uniform compensation means we can in fact think primarily in terms of people unconfined by those roles. That is, we can be very fluid about what we’re working on, without fear of how it will affect a perceived career trajectory. As a concrete example: we had a large customer that wanted to put in place a program for some of the additional work they wanted to see in the product. The complexity of their needs required dedicated program management resources that we couldn’t spare, and in another more static company we would have perhaps looked to hire. But in our case, two folks came together — CJ from operations, and Izzy from support — and did something together that was in some regards new to both of them (and was neither of their putative full-time jobs!) The result was indisputably successful: the customer loved the results, and two terrific people got a chance to work closely together without worrying about who was dotted-lined to whom. It has allowed us to organizationally scale. Many organizations describe themselves as flat, and a reasonable rebuttal to this are the "shadow hierarchies" created by the tyranny of structurelessness. And indeed, if one were to read (say) Valve’s (in)famous handbook, the autonomy seems great — but the stack ranking decidedly less so, especially because the handbook is conspicuously silent on the subject of compensation. (Unsurprisingly, compensation was weaponized at Valve, which descended into toxic cliquishness.) While we believe that autonomy is important to do one’s best work, we also have a clear structure at Oxide in that Steve Tuck (Oxide co-founder and CEO) is in charge. He has to be: he is held accountable to our investors — and he must have the latitude to make decisions. Under Steve, it is true that we don’t have layers of middle management. Might we need some in the future? Perhaps, but what fraction of middle management in a company is dedicated to — at some level — determining who gets what in terms of compensation? What happens when you eliminate that burden completely? It frees us to both lead and follow. We expect that every Oxide employee has the capacity to lead others — and we tap this capacity frequently. Of course, a company in which everyone is trying to direct all traffic all the time would be a madhouse, so we also very much rely on following one another too! Just as our compensation model allows us to internalize the values of different roles, it allows us to appreciate the value of both leading and following, and empowers us each with the judgement to know when to do which. This isn’t always easy or free of ambiguity, but this particular dimension of our versatility has been essential — and our compensation model serves to encourage it. It causes us to hire carefully and deliberately. Of course, one should always hire carefully and deliberately, but this often isn’t the case — and many a startup has been ruined by reckless expansion of headcount. One of the roots of this can be found in a dirty open secret of Silicon Valley middle management: its ranks are taught to grade their career by the number of reports in their organization. Just as if you were to compensate software engineers based on the number of lines of code they wrote, this results in perverse incentives and predictable disasters — and any Silicon Valley vet will have plenty of horror stories of middle management jockeying for reqs or reorgs when they should have been focusing on product and customers. When you can eliminate middle management, you eliminate this incentive. We grow the team not because of someone’s animal urges to have the largest possible organization, but rather because we are at a point where adding people will allow us to better serve our market and customers. It liberates feedback from compensation. Feedback is, of course, very important: we all want to know when and where we’re doing the right thing! And of course, we want to know too where there is opportunity for improvement. However, Silicon Valley has historically tied feedback so tightly to compensation that it has ceased to even pretend to be constructive: if it needs to be said, performance review processes aren’t, in fact, about improving the performance of the team, but rather quantifying and stack-ranking that performance for purposes of compensation. When compensation is moved aside, there is a kind of liberation for feedback itself: because feedback is now entirely earnest, it can be expressed and received thoughtfully. It allows people to focus on doing the right thing. In a world of traditional, compensation-tied performance review, the organizational priority is around those things that affect compensation — even at the expense of activity that clearly benefits the company. This leads to all sorts of wild phenomena, and most technology workers will be able to tell stories of doing things that were clearly right for the company, but having to hide it from management that thought only narrowly in terms of their own stated KPIs and MBOs. By contrast, over and over (and over!) again, we have found that people do the right thing at Oxide — even if (especially if?) no one is looking. The beneficiary of that right thing? More often than not, it’s our customers, who have uniformly praised the team for going above and beyond. It allows us to focus on the work that matters. Relatedly, when compensation is non-uniform, the process to figure out (and maintain) that non-uniformity is laborious. All of that work — of line workers assembling packets explaining themselves, of managers arming themselves with those packets to fight in the arena of organizational combat, and then of those same packets ultimately being regurgitated back onto something called a review — is work. Assuming such a process is executed perfectly (something which I suppose is possible in the abstract, even though I personally have never seen it), this is work that does not in fact advance the mission of the company. Not having variable compensation gives us all of that time and energy back to do the actual work — the stuff that matters. It has stoked an extraordinary sense of teamwork. For me personally — and as I relayed on an episode of Software Misadventures — the highlights of my career have been being a part of an extraordinary team. The currency of a team is mutual trust, and while uniform compensation certainly isn’t the only way to achieve that trust, boy does it ever help! As Steve and I have told one another more times that we can count: we are so lucky to work on this team, with its extraordinary depth and breadth. While our findings have been very positive, I would still reiterate what we said four years ago: we don’t know what the future holds, and it’s easier to make an unwavering commitment to the transparency rather than the uniformity. That said, the uniformity has had so many positive ramifications that the model feels more important than ever. We are beyond the point of this being a curiosity; it’s been essential for building a mission-focused team taking on a problem larger than ourselves. So it’s not a fit for everyone — but if you are seeking an extraordinary team solving hard problems in service to customers, consider Oxide!

1st May 2025 • 42 votes
dtrace.conf(24)

Sometime in late 2007, we had the idea of a DTrace conference. Or really, more of a meetup; from the primordial e-mail I sent: The goal here, by the way, is not a DTrace user group, but more of a face-to-face meeting with people actively involved in DTrace — either by porting it to another system, by integrating probes into higher level environments, by building higher-level tools on top of DTrace or by using it heavily and/or in a critical role. That said, we also don’t want to be exclusionary, so our thinking is that the only true requirement for attending is that everyone must be prepared to speak informally for 15 mins or so on what they are doing with DTrace, any limitations that they have encountered, and some ideas for the future. We’re thinking that this is going to be on the order of 15-30 people (though more would be a good problem to have — we’ll track it if necessary), that it will be one full day (breakfast in the morning through drinks into the evening), and that we’re going to host it here at our offices in San Francisco sometime in March 2008. This same note also included some suggested names for the gathering, including what in hindsight seems a clear winner: DTrace Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con. As if knowing that I should leave an explanatory note to my future self as to why this name was not selected, my past self fortunately clarified: "before everyone clamors for the obvious Bi-Mon-Sci-Fi-Con, you should know that most Millennials don’t (sadly) get the reference." (While I disagree with the judgement of my past self, it at least indicates that at some point I cared if anyone got the reference.) We settled on a much more obscure reference, and had the first dtrace.conf in March 2008. Befitting the style of the time, it was an unconference (a term that may well have hit its apogee in 2008) that you signed up to attend by editing a wiki. More surprising given the year (and thanks entirely to attendee Ben Rockwood), it was recorded — though this is so long ago that I referred to it as video taping (and with none of the participants mic’d, I’m afraid the quality isn’t very good). The conference, however, was terrific, viz. the reports of Adam, Keith and Stephen (all somehow still online nearly two decades later). If anything, it was a little too good: we realized that we couldn’t recreate the magic, and we demurred on making it an annual event. Years passed, and memories faded. By 2012, it felt like we wanted to get folks together again, now under a post-lawnmower corporate aegis in Joyent. The resulting dtrace.conf(12) was a success, and the Olympiad cadence felt like the right one; we did it again four years later at dtrace.conf(16). In 2020, we came back together for a new adventure — and the DTrace Olympiad was not lost on Adam. Alas, dtrace.conf(20) — like the Olympics themselves — was cancelled, if implicitly. Unlike the Olympics, however, it was not to be rescheduled. More years passed and DTrace continued to prove its utility at Oxide; last year when Adam and I did our "DTrace at 20" episode of Oxide and Friends, we vowed to hold dtrace.conf(24) — and a few months ago, we set our date to be December 11th. At first we assumed we would do something similar to our earlier conferences: a one-day participant-run conference, at the Oxide office in Emeryville. But times have changed: thanks to the rise of remote work, technologists are much more dispersed — and many more people would need to travel for dtrace.conf(24) than in previous DTrace Olympiads. Travel hasn’t become any cheaper since 2008, and the cost (and inconvenience) was clearly going to limit attendance. The dilemma for our small meetup highlights the changing dynamics in tech conferences in general: with talks all recorded and made publicly available after the conference, how does one justify attending a conference in person? There can be reasonable answers to that question, of course: it may be the hallway track, or the expo hall, or the after-hours socializing, or perhaps some other special conference experience. But it’s also not surprising that some conferences — especially ones really focused on technical content — have decided that they are better off doing as conference giant O’Reilly Media did, and going exclusively online. And without the need to feed and shelter participants, the logistics for running a conference become much more tenable — and the price point can be lowered to the point that even highly produced conferences like P99 CONF can be made freely available. This, in turn, leads to much greater attendance — and a network effect that can get back some of what one might lose going online. In particular, using chat as the hallway track can be more much effective (and is certainly more scalable!) than the actual physical hallways at a conference. For conferences in general, there is a conversation to be had here (and as a teaser, Adam and I are going to talk about it with Stephen O’Grady and Theo Schlossnagle on Oxide and Friends next week, but for our quirky, one-day, Olympiad-cadence dtrace.conf, the decision was pretty easy: there was much more to be gained than lost by going exclusively on-line. So dtrace.conf(24) is coming up next week, and it’s available to everyone. In terms of platform, we’re going to try to keep that pretty simple: we’re going to use Google Meet for the actual presenters, which we will stream in real-time to YouTube — and we’ll use the Oxide Discord for all chat. We’re hoping you’ll join us on December 11th — and if you want to talk about DTrace or a DTrace-adjacent topic, we’d love for you to present! Keeping to the unconference style, if you would like to present, please indicate your topic in the #session-topics Discord channel so we can get the agenda fleshed out. While we’re excited to be online, there are some historical accoutrements of conferences that we didn’t want to give up. First, we have a tradition of t-shirts with dtrace.conf. Thanks to our designer Ben Leonard, we have a banger of a t-shirt, capturing the spirit of our original dtrace.conf(08) shirt but with an Oxide twist. It’s (obviously) harder to make those free but we have tried to price them reasonably. You can get your t-shirt by adding it to your (free) dtrace.conf ticket. (And for those who present at dtrace.conf, your shirt is on us — we’ll send you a coupon code!) Second, for those who can make their way to the East Bay and want some hangout time, we are going to have an après conference social event at the Oxide office starting at 5p. We’re charging something nominal for that too (and like the t-shirt, you pay for that via your dtrace.conf ticket); we’ll have some food and drinks and an Oxide hardware tour for the curious — and (of course?) there will be Fishpong. Much has changed since I sent that e-mail 17 years ago — but the shared values and disposition that brought together our small community continue to endure; we look forward to seeing everyone (virtually) at dtrace.conf(24)!

5th Dec 2024 • 111 votes
How Oxide Cuts Data Center Power Consumption in Half

Here’s a sobering thought: today, data centers already consume 1-2% of the world’s power, and that percentage will likely rise to 3-4% by the end of the decade. According to Goldman Sachs research, that rise will include a doubling in data center carbon dioxide emissions. As the data and AI boom progresses, this thirst for power shows no signs of slowing down anytime soon. Two key challenges quickly become evident for the 85% of IT that currently lives on-premises. How can organizations reduce power consumption and corresponding carbon emissions? How can organizations keep pace with AI innovation as existing data centers run out of available power? Figure 1. Masanet et al. (2020), Cisco, IEA, Goldman Sachs Research Rack-scale design is critical to improved data center efficiency Traditional data center IT consumes so much power because the fundamental unit of compute is an individual server; like a house where rooms were built one at a time, with each room having its own central AC unit, gas furnace, and electrical panel. Individual rackmount servers are stacked together, each with their own AC power supplies, cooling fans, and power management. They are then paired with storage appliances and network switches that communicate at arm’s length, not designed as a cohesive whole. This approach fundamentally limits organizations' ability to maintain sustainable, high-efficiency computing systems. Of course, hyperscale public cloud providers did not design their data center systems this way. Instead, they operate like a carefully planned smart home where everything is designed to work together cohesively and is operated by software that understands the home’s systems end-to-end. High-efficiency, rack-scale computers are deployed at scale and operate as a single unit with integrated storage and networking to support elastic cloud computing services. This modern archietecture is made available to the market as public cloud, but that rental-only model is ill-fit for many business needs. Compared to a popular rackmount server vendor, Oxide is able to fill our specialized racks with 32 AMD Milan sleds and highly-available network switches using less than 15kW per rack, doubling the compute density in a typical data center. With just 16 of the alternative 1U servers and equivalent network switches, over 16kW of power is required per rack, leading to only 1,024 CPU cores vs Oxide’s 2,048. Extracting more useful compute from each kW of power and square foot of data center space is key to the future effectiveness of on-premises computing. At Oxide, we’ve taken this lesson in advancing rack-scale design, improved upon it in several ways, and made it available for every organization to purchase and operate anywhere in the world without a tether back to the public cloud. Our Cloud Computer treats the entire rack as a single, unified computer rather than a collection of independent parts, achieving unprecedented power efficiency. By designing the hardware and software together, we’ve eliminated unnecessary components and optimized every aspect of system operation through a control plane with visibility to end-to-end operations. When we started Oxide, the DC bus bar stood as one of the most glaring differences between the rack-scale machines at the hyperscalers and the rack-and-stack servers that the rest of the market was stuck with. That a relatively simple piece of copper was unavailable to commercial buyers — despite being unequivocally the right way to build it! — represented everything wrong with the legacy approach. The bus bar in the Oxide Cloud Computer is not merely more efficient, it is a concrete embodiment of the tremendous gains from designing at rack-scale, and by integrating hardware with software. — Bryan Cantrill The improvements we’re seeing are rooted in technical innovation Replacing low-efficiency AC power supplies with a high-efficiency DC Bus Bar This eliminates the 70 total AC power supplies found in an equivalent legacy server rack within 32 servers, two top-of-rack switches, and one out-of-band switch, each with two AC power supplies. This power shelf also ensures the load is balanced across phases, something that’s impossible with traditional power distribution units found in legacy server racks. Bigger fans = bigger efficiency gains using 12x less energy than legacy servers, which each contain as many as 7 fans, which must work much harder to move air over system components. Purpose-built for power efficiency less restrictive airflow than legacy servers by eliminating extraneous components like PCIe risers, storage backplanes, and more. Legacy servers need many optional components like these because they could be used for any number of tasks, such as point-of-sale systems, data center servers, or network-attached-storage (NAS) systems. Still, they were never designed optimally for any one of those tasks. The Oxide Cloud Computer was designed from the ground up to be a rack-scale cloud computing powerhouse, and so it’s optimized for exactly that task. Hardware + Software designed together By designing the hardware and software together, we can make hardware choices like more intelligent DC-DC power converters that can provide rich telemetry to our control plane, enabling future feature enhancements such as dynamic power capping and efficiency-based workload placement that are impossible with legacy servers and software systems. Learn more about Oxide’s intelligent Power Shelf Controller The Bottom Line: Customers and the Environment Both Benefit Reducing data center power demands and achieving more useful computing per kilowatt requires fundamentally rethinking traditional data center utilization and compute design. At Oxide, we’ve proven that dramatic efficiency gains are possible when you rethink the computer at rack-scale with hardware and software designed thoughtfully and rigorously together. Ready to learn how your organization can achieve these results? Schedule time with our team here. Together, we can reclaim on-premises computing efficiency to achieve both business and sustainability goals.

8th Nov 2024 • 95 votes

More in programming

Origin of mail-in vote fuckery

Details of how the White House tried to suppress the vote by messing with mail-in voting. An early proposal was that all ballots would have to be sent via certified mail.

12 minutes ago • 1 votes
Lexxy 1.0 is here

Today we are releasing the version 1.0 of Lexxy. Lexxy is a rich text editor for Rails built on Lexical. It already powers Basecamp, Fizzy and many others, and it will become the default editor in Rails. I recently presented it in Rails World (slides, video coming soon). This is the article version of my talk. Trix hit a wall Trix has been our editor since 2015, and every Rails app’s editor since Action Text shipped in Rails 6. It’s small and reliable, and it has served millions of people for a decade. But in the last few years our customers kept asking for features like tables or code highlighting, and we kept struggling to deliver them. The reason is the Trix document model. A Trix document is a flat list of blocks. A block is a line of text with some labels attached, like quote, bullet list, bullet. There is no tree, and a block can never contain another block. Nesting is an illusion: at render time, adjacent blocks with the same labels get wrapped together. A flat list of blocks with very limited extensibility options That design bought a lot of simplicity, but you can’t express something like a table with it. Two cells next to each other would carry exactly the same labels, so Trix would merge them into one. The model can say “this bullet is one level deeper”. It cannot say “this cell is different from the cell next to it”. A tables issue has been opened since 2015! The model just can’t do it. The second problem was maintenance. An editor built on contenteditable behaves differently in every browser and even changes from time with operating system releases. In 2024, three iOS releases in a row broke typing, dictation or the caret in Trix, and each one cost us real effort to work around. Check this one as an example. Why Lexical This was a conversation we had at 37signals for years: 2022. We started a project to add tables to Trix. We gave up after a week. The document model can’t represent two-dimensional things. 2023. I built a proof of concept with Tiptap inside HEY. We liked it, but we never started a serious project with it. 2024. We built House, our own Markdown editor, for Writebook. Not WYSIWYG, but WYSIWYM: what you see is what you mean. A wonderful editor for long-form writing like books or technical documentation. 2025. We tried House in another product, and it didn’t fit. For most apps, WYSIWYG was just the right answer. 2025. We had the discussion again, and this time we looked at the whole field. Four years of the same conversation David ruled out Tiptap, CKEditor and the other commercial editors: an open source core with features kept proprietary, and a sales team behind them. We didn’t want our editor to depend on somebody else’s licensing decisions. Then we found Lexical: MIT, from Meta, and very powerful. I spent two weeks evaluating it, and in May we made the call to go with it. A tiny core. Pick the rest. Lexical’s core has zero dependencies and weighs forty-two kilobytes. In a way, it validates the approach that Trix pioneered. The document is an immutable state you never mutate directly, you just get new snapshots when performing updates; contenteditable is an input device and a rendering surface, never the source of truth. It has a DOM reconciler to update the actual DOM very efficiently, and other primitives to deal with handling commands and node transformations. Everything else, from lists to tables to markdown, is a package in the orbit. Lexxy uses thirteen of them. Lexical solved the maintenance problem too. Meta’s products like Facebook or Instagram use Lexical and their user count is in the hundreds of millions. This means that even small issues with new keyboards and devices are fixed fast by the dedicated Meta team that maintains it. Furthermore, Meta’s business is the products, not the editor. We much rather liked this structure of incentives for the long-term investment an editor represents. The iceberg The plan was simple. Pick Lexical, wire it up to Action Text, add a toolbar and ship it. Well, it didn’t go exactly like that. What you envision, and what's under the water Lexxy today is thirteen thousand lines of vanilla JavaScript on top of Lexical. A great editing experience is very hard to get right. An editor is a machine where the user can change the state in a thousand different ways. For example. you have two images one after the other and want to put the cursor between them, but there is nothing there to put a cursor in. Or somebody pastes from Google Docs, and you have to turn a pile of inline styles and empty spans into clean markup. And then Safari, and Android keyboards, and the clipboard, and undo, and… From the first pull request to Basecamp 5 The first pull request landed in May 2025. Fizzy launched with Lexxy in December, and Basecamp 5 in May this year. Basecamp was the real test: twenty years of content written with Trix, and people who use the editor all day, every day. Zoltán Hosszú and Samuel Péchèr were the key people who made this happen. The took a very green version of Lexxy, added a ton of features (including Tables) and polish, and they fixed countless bugs. They also pulled off a remarkable milestone: seamlessly switching millions of Basecamp users from Trix to Lexxy. What’s included? We didn’t want a to build Trix with tables. We had Lexical and we had agents to help, so we wanted to be ambitious here. We went for the whole package. Features In terms of major features: A color highlighter, built in instead of this being a custom Basecamp extension, as it was with Trix. Tables, with an interface we worked hard to keep simple and accessible. Markdown. You type it, you get rich text. Code blocks with syntax highlighting as you type, in more than twenty languages. Image galleries you can navigate and reorder with the keyboard. Prompts. Type a character, get a menu: mentions, emoji, or whatever your app needs. Links by pasting a URL over selected text. Previews of attachments like videos and PDFs, rendered as your app renders them. Action Text Native Lexxy is also Action Text native. Action Text stores attachments in a canonical format that Trix doesn’t speak, so it translates on save and again on render. We taught Lexxy to emit exactly that markup. What you see in the editor is what gets saved, and what gets saved is what your app renders. Your existing content, attachments and views keep working. That opened another door. Action Text now talks to an editor adapter, with an implementation for Trix and one for Lexxy, so switching is one line: config.action_text.editor = :lexxy. Here the credit goes to Sean Doyle, who started that pull request before Lexxy existed and took it to the finish line with our input. It ships with Rails 8.2, and we hope other editors will use it too. Extensibility And you can extend Lexxy. Extensions are built on Lexical’s own mechanism, and this is not a second-class API: Lexxy itself is thirteen extensions, tables included, and Basecamp has nine more. class MyExtension extends Lexxy.Extension { get enabled() { … } get allowedElements() { … } get lexicalExtension() { return this.defineExtension({ name: "my-extension", nodes: [ … ], register(editor) { … } }) } initializeToolbar(toolbar) { … } dispose() { … } } Lexxy.configure({ global: { extensions: [ MyExtension ] } }) My favorite of how extensible is Lexxy are voice notes in Basecamp: you record, you see the waveform while you talk, and it becomes a player inside the document. About a thousand lines, without forking or patching anything. Performance Lexxy is fast, because Lexical is fast. In a ten thousand word document, Trix takes thirty-eight milliseconds to process a keystroke. Lexxy takes four. Above fifty milliseconds, the editor starts feeling sluggish. Compared to Trix, Lexxy brought a whole new performance regime. Milliseconds per keystroke by document size Accessibility Accessibility in Trix was not great. In general, building accessible experiences for rich text editors built on top of contenteditable is quite hard. We had a dream team to help with Lexxy accessibility. Bruno Prieto worked with Michael Berger, our accessibility champion at 37signals, to bring the bar to where we wanted it to be. Bruno is an outstanding programmer who happens to be blind, so he knows one thing or two about accessibility, and he delivered. As a result, in Lexxy everything is reachable with the keyboard. The editor announces itself properly to screen readers, and it gets a thousand details right so that the editing experience using a screen reader is fantastic. You can learn more about accessibility in our docs. Security The latest AI models have resulted in an unprecedented explosion of vulnerabilities found, and we took this thread quite seriously. Lexxy counted with programmers of the caliber of Jeremy Daer and Mike Dalessio helping to make it more secure. We have put a lot of attention to sanitizing the editor contents, validating attachment URLs and making sure that the types of attachments and nodes the editor support are allow-listed. Lexxy also comes with preliminary Trusted Types support, to offer CSP-level control over certain DOM manipulation APIs. The trusted types policy is there, but we are not enforcing it everywhere yet. Agents We started Lexxy using Claude since day one. A main lesson was that an agent needs to drive the editor like a user does. The best decision we made in this project was moving the system tests from Capybara to Playwright: three browsers instead of one, a suite that runs in seconds, and a much more faithful clipboard, keyboard and focus. This represented a tremendous improvement in how agents could close the loop by themselves. Write a test, see it fail, fix it, see it pass. We have more than six hundred browser tests today. Moving the suite to Playwright changed how fast we could write tests With a solid testing foundation in place, we could start fixing bugs in large batches. As mentioned, getting a text editor right implies a ton of work, and the kind of backlog we got at some point would have have buried us in pre-agent times. We also used agents to validate the fixes: an agent reproduces the bug in the public Lexxy sandbox, checks that it’s gone with the branch applied, and labels the pull request. Agents were essential to get Lexxy done with the people and the deadlines we had: we are a small company, and the same people were shipping two products in parallel. 275 cards closed The new Rails default We believe Lexxy is the best rich text editor out there right now, and we are going to make it the default editor in Rails next. If you’re starting a Rails application today, use Lexxy. If you’re using Action Text with a standard configuration, switch. It’s one line, and we’ve worked hard to make it seamless.

50 minutes ago • 1 votes
George Dryden

Reading my recent computing retrospective, I realised there was a big section missing: the people in my life that made an impact and helped shape my career. Outside my immediate family, one person made an outsized contribution, and I’m fairly certain that without his influence my life would have taken a very different path. The fact that I’m still here in 2026, still writing code and being fortunate enough to have a career in something I love is testament to him. So I’d like to take a few moments to talk about my old secondary school teacher, George Dryden. Denied Back in 1995, I had a problem. I knew I wanted to study computing at university and build a career out of my passion, but there was a snag. For those unfamiliar with the UK schooling system, when you’re 15-16 you take a set of GCSE exams in a broad range of subjects. After that, you pick around 3 subjects to really focus on over a period of 2 years. These are called A Levels, and they are a big step up and are meant to prepare you for a degree-level course at university. Admission to university is also governed by these results - if you want to study computing, you’re going to need a computing A-Level, and most universities will only accept you (or “make an offer”) if you achieve a certain grade. And whilst I had taken computing at a GCSE level, my school did not offer a computing A-Level course. I instead had to settle on “Design & Technology”, which just didn’t inspire me. Instead of working on my portfolio and projects, I spent most of my time daydreaming and writing code on the Acorn Archimedes computers that were the staple of every 90s UK school. No disrespect to the teachers - they were all awesome - but it just wasn’t for me. I was miserable, and by the end of my first year, I was well on my way to failing outright with my entire future plans seemingly going up in smoke. Someone noticed That’s when George stepped in. He’d taught me computing right the way through my GCSEs, and with no A-Level course on offer, that was officially where his involvement was supposed to have ended. It didn’t. He had noticed my constant presence in the computing labs - before and after school, during lunch breaks, free “study” periods - working on some little pet project or digging into RISC OS internals. I remember him as warm, with a wicked, dry sense of humour, and a refreshingly spiky attitude to authority - I always got the sense he’d worked out for himself which rules were worth taking seriously and which ones weren’t. And he always had time for me. I spent years pestering him with questions that had nothing to do with anything on the syllabus, and he’d always find a way to answer them that actually made sense. He was just as supportive of my odd little obsessions. At one point I’d got deep into the BBS scene, which I thought was the coolest thing ever, and decided what the school really needed was an internal BBS running on its own network. So I wrote one. It was deeply cringeworthy, obviously - but George helped me put posters up around the school advertising it, and even gave it a mention in assembly one morning. I think about five people in total ever checked it out. It didn’t matter: a teacher had stood up in front of the entire school and treated my weird little project like it was worth something, and that was a hugely validating moment for me. Off the books He recognised the passion, and eventually he made a suggestion: What if I quit the Design and Technology course, and instead attempt the A-level course myself? Personally, I also suspect he was enjoying himself. There was some internal school politics behind why computing wasn’t offered at A-Level in the first place - I never knew the details - and I think the prospect of one of his students simply going out and getting the qualification anyway appealed to him on two separate levels. It would get me where I wanted to go, and it would wind up exactly the right people. It wouldn’t be easy, he warned. The school would be against it, plus it was a two-year course which I’d have to cram into one year. I’d have to do it all myself - studying, lesson planning, coursework - he couldn’t help me in an official capacity, but he said he’d advocate for me and help where he could. If I had assignments, he’d send them off to be graded and would give feedback in his own time. He’d enter me in for the exams and also gave me a set of keys to the computer lab so I could use it whenever I needed. It was the first time anybody outside my own family had really shown faith in my abilities and encouraged me to take a stand. It was a pivotal moment for me - I realised if I wanted something badly enough I would have to fight for it, but I could still make it happen. I didn’t have to take “NO” for an answer - a lesson I think I picked up from watching him as much as from anything he ever actually said to me. After a few weeks of dithering, I took the jump. I remember a few awkward meetings with the school administration but thanks to his behind-the-scenes work, I was soon following my dream. An intense year And yes, it was bloody hard work. I had to condense an entire two year course into under a year, be disciplined enough to produce my own study plan, and be critical enough of my own shortcomings that I could focus my study where it was needed. I pretty much lived and breathed it for months straight and was more-or-less a permanent fixture in the labs or school library poring over my course books. I’d make lists of questions and chat to George over lunch, and he’d provide guidance and encouragement. It was a lonely way to learn with no classmates to compare notes with, no lessons to turn up to, and right up until the end I had no real idea whether any of it was good enough - but bit by bit, it started to feel like something I could actually pull off. And sure enough, in the late spring of 1996, I sat down in an exam hall with my fellow students, the only one with an A-Level computing question paper in front of me. The final exam went by in a blur - I can only remember a few of the questions now (and a peculiar obsession with the Pascal language) - but I do remember the euphoria as the invigilator called “time’s up, pens down, close your papers NOW”. I had done it. A few nerve-wracking months later, my Mum drove me into school to pick up my results. I ripped open the envelope and saw it - I’d passed with an A grade! I literally ran up the stairs to George’s office next to the computing labs to thank him personally. I’d taken my camera into school to take a few last photos for memory’s sake and snapped this photo of him before I walked out the school gates for the last time: A different path Because of him, I managed to get into my university of choice, studying computing with a focus on networks. Because of that, I landed my first job working as a “webmaster”, and my career since has been one of the highlights of my life. All these years later, it’s a real privilege to be able to get up each morning and actively look forward to working in an industry I love. Without George stepping up for me and encouraging me to believe in myself, none of that would have happened. I wouldn’t have had the career I have, and I wouldn’t be where I am now. I met my wife when we both worked at a software company - she sat at the desk behind me - so even my home and family life can be traced back to that spring of 1996. And the A-Level itself was only half of what I took away from that year. The qualification opened the door to university, but the lesson that came with it was every bit as important: that a “no” isn’t always the end of it, and that sometimes the answer can be argued with. I’m so proud of what I managed to achieve all those years ago, and even more thankful to have had someone like George in my life to put me on the right track. Mr. Dryden I did see him again after I left. He drank in one of my local pubs - a pub I’d been going to for a good while before I was technically old enough to be in it - and I’d say hello if I spotted him in there, mostly in the months before I moved away to university. After that it was only a handful of times. For years I’d find myself scanning the room whenever I was back home and in for a pint, half expecting him to be at the bar. At some point I stopped seeing him altogether and eventually moved across the country. The trouble was I never really knew how to talk to him outside of school. He was always Mr. Dryden, or just “Sir”, I don’t think I ever once called him George to his face! I was (and still am if I’m honest) fairly socially awkward, and I never worked out how to phrase the thing I actually wanted to say: that he had changed the entire direction of my life, and I wasn’t sure he knew it. So instead I’d say hello, and ask how he was, talk about nothing much, and go back to my friends. Epilogue Sadly, 3 years ago now, I opened the latest issue of my old school alumni newsletter to read that he’d passed away. The photo at the start of this article was taken from his obituary article and I read that he’d had a long illness and had suffered from dementia at the end. I did write to him years ago by email - I don’t know if he ever got it, or was in any capacity to understand what he’d done for me, but I hope so. There’s an old saying by one of my favourite authors (Terry Pratchett) that “no one is finally dead until the ripples they cause in the world die away”. In one of his books, a character keeps the memory of his son alive by passing his name along a series of telegraph towers. It’s in that spirit that I’m writing this post - I debated it for many years as it’s very personal to me and I also have no contact with any of George’s family so I have no idea what they would make of it all. But even though it’s 30+ years ago now, I will never forget him or what he did for me - and at least now, if someone searches his name it’ll be recorded here for as long as I’m alive and running this site. Thank you, Sir. George Dryden 1942-2023

yesterday • 1 votes
How Copy-on-Write Works with Memory-Mapped Files

Let’s step inside the kernel and understand how it implements copy-on-write and what are its implications for the performance of user-space systems

yesterday • 1 votes
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